Just The Way We Are
by orangesunset12
Summary: "Jason," Tim said desperately, "we need to switch bodies before the end of the week. Or else we're stuck like this. The both of us." Jason looked Tim dead in the eyes. "That's fine by me." Because it was Jason's turn to be the Replacement.
1. The Switch

The night wind was blowing, warning of the approaching storm from the east.

Robin's cape fluttered in the breeze. He tugged at it and managed to grab one end and hold it close to him for warmth.

He shuddered slightly, peering down. Without Batman next to him he felt oddly lonely.

'This will be your first mission alone,' he recalled Batman saying. 'Be careful. Call me at once if you run into any trouble.'

Yeah, like that would happen. Like Tim would give up this chance to prove that he wasn't incapable, that he was just as good as any other Robin, that he did deserve the name and he did deserve the mantle.

That he wasn't, for all intents and purposes, the Replacement.

A sudden movement below signalled the shipment was about to be unloaded. He watched, eyes wide for any sign of the Black Mask. Whispers had it that he had hired someone to protect this latest package of arms, so Tim was on full alert. This first mission was not going wrong.

Well, at least, until it all went to hell.

* * *

Jason puffed out a trail of smoke.

He liked smoking. Not that he liked cancer or anything, but screw that, he'd died once.

He liked the feeling of it. Of inhaling poison, and then puffing it back out into the world. As if he were saying YOU THOUGHT I WOULD DIE? NO WAY! TAKE THIS!

He watched the smoke curl and waft lazily through the air, forming a spiral column that could reach all the way to heaven, y'know, if he believed in heaven.

Not that Jason didn't believe in God (which he didn't.) But he couldn't believe in a place that was perfect, a place that was paradise. Because believing in that would mean having to admit he'd never get there, and damn, of all the sad realities he'd faced that was the saddest and the realest of them all.

There was a shift in the darkness and Jason tensed. Black Mask was reportedly moving a massive shipment of guns in this alleyway, and he quietly loaded his gun. To hell with whoever he'd hired. A bullet through their head would give Jason a nice, easy night.

(Yes, he did believe in Hell. That, of all things, had to exist.)

He took out the cigarette and snubbed it out on the rooftop floor. Cocking the gun, he aimed it at the guy with the funny hat who was moving the package.

He was about to pull the trigger when a bright flash of red and yellow flicked through the night, descending on the men.

Damn. The Replacement was here.

* * *

Robin spiralled through the air, cape extended to catch the fast-flying wind.

Tim loved these moments. Just moments of flying, of being free, of being the bird he was named after.

These moments before the crunch of landing and the darkness of crime, the darkness you could fight in two ways.

By either becoming the darkness, as Batman had, or becoming the light. And that was Robin- simply a light in the darkness when all other lights go out.

He landed hard on the shoulders of the first guy, a scream accompanying his entrance. Then a flip to avoid the bullets, a roundhouse kick to Goon 2's face, a baton sweeping the third guy's legs, punch, kick, like a messed-up tango.

Then a hard fist to the gut, and he was losing. Tim's vision went hazy. Were there always so many thugs?

There was a rushing sound from behind, and Tim shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow. And then a gunshot rang out in the darkness.

"'Sup."

Tim spun around and found himself face-to-face (okay, let's not lie, chest-to-face) with Jason Todd. The Red Hood.

"Red Hood!" Tim exclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Kicking butt." He proceeded to shoot the remaining two thugs in the head. "Better question is, what are you doing out here without your babysitter?"

Robin blushed. "This was... a solo mission."

"Ah, a solo mission. The Bats finally trusted you?"

"I've proved myself enough," Tim defended. "I didn't need your help."

"Right."

Jason walked over to the crate and peered in. He whistled at the sight.

"Man, gotta get me some of these," he grinned, reaching his arms in.

"You can't."

Red Hood looked up. "What?"

"You can't. That's government property- Batman specifically told me not to let it go loose."

"Now when was the last time I listened to the Batman?"

Tim didn't answer, because they both knew very well when that was.

"You gonna stop me?" He asked casually. "Replacement?"

A torrent of anger rushed up his body. "I am not your replacement!"

"Aren't you? So, you're saying I was never a Robin?"

Tim's face felt hot. "No. I'm just saying I'm tired of you always trying to put me down, and I'm not taking any more of it. I'm just as much a Robin as you were."

"Really? Rich kid with parents who love him, who sought out this role?"

"What does that have to do-"

"That has everything to do with it!" Jason slammed the crate lid down. "I suffered my whole life, day after day, until I finally got a lucky break! And guess what? It blew up in my face!"

"Oh, so just because I didn't grow up poor, I don't deserve the mantle?!"

"Robins are made to suffer! I, was made to suffer!" Jason reloaded his gun slowly, and Tim's eyes widened. "You will get your turn too."

"Wait- Red-"

"As entertaining as this is, boys, I need those guns." Tim spun around, but couldn't see anything.

The hired muscle, he recalled. Jason had distracted him, and he'd forgotten. Stupid. Both of them so very, very stupid.

"Now... sleep!"

Tim only had time to see Jason slump to the floor before he felt himself sliding, down a dark, dark hole...

* * *

Jason opened his eyes.

The ceiling he was staring at was white and polished, nothing like the crumbling brown of his warehouse.

Where was he?

A pounding headache caused him to groan, which caused a shift of movement next to him.

"You awake?" A very familiar voice said softly.

Jason sat up, blood pounding in his skull. "Bruce?" His own voice sounded unfamiliar. "What- what's going on?"

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe. We found you at the shipment location. You got hit by one of Wizard's spells, but it seems to only have knocked you unconscious."

"What...?" Jason stared into Bruce's eyes, but found no trace of the usual hurt and hatred. "But... how...? I died..."

Bruce chuckled, and Jason couldn't help but smile. "That was all a dream. Now, if you feel good enough, Alfred's prepared lunch downstairs."

"Lunch? Oh, yeah... you go ahead. I'll catch up."

Bruce exited the room, and Jason let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Something was wrong. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching. He made his way to the toilet to confirm his suspicions.

Jason stared into the mirror.

Tim's face stared back.

* * *

 **Sup guys! Yes, I haven't written in a while but y'know, school and all that. Here's the start of a new story I hope to finish! Hope you enjoyed, and leave a like/follow/review if you did!**


	2. The Plan

Tim woke with a gasp.

He shuddered suddenly, drawing his jacket closer around his body.

Wait... jacket?

He stared at it, brown and dusty, uncomprehending. The last he remembered, he was fighting the goons in his Robin persona, and, well, arguing with Jason-

Jason! Where was he?

Tim sat up, suddenly acutely aware of the horrible ache in his head. He pressed his palms to his skull. Looking around, he noticed he was in the same alley that he had fallen asleep in. The only difference was that he was behind the dumpster, which was concealing him from view.

Jason was nowhere to be found.

He stood up warily, staggering to his feet. Something felt... wrong. In his head, in his body, or something like that.

"Red Hood?" He called out. Nothing replied.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, "time to radio Batman." He looked at the sun shining brightly overhead. "Or... call Bruce. Yeah, I can do that."

He reached for his utility belt, only to remember he was in a totally different costume. He frowned then reached for his pocket. (If Jason was the one that did this to him then he was going to pay, dearly.)

"What the..." He pulled out a phone, that was for sure. But not his. This one was black and red, with a sticker saying 'I'M BETTER THAN BATMAN'. Tim's eyes widened and he looked down at his shirt, a red bat flying in the black fabric.

"Oh no," he whispered.

* * *

Jason looked at the T.V. No, he wasn't watching, but he couldn't look away either. Because looking away meant looking at Bruce, who was next to him, or Alfred, who was cleaning the counter.

He coughed.

"Tim? You okay?" Bruce asked, concerned.

He couldn't remember the last time Bruce had been concerned about him. "What? Oh yeah, fine." By the way, he thought of adding, I'm Jason Todd- you know, the Robin who you failed and all that? Yeah, I possessed your precious Replacement's body. Do I know where he is? Nope. He could be dead for all I know!

Jason sighed and pinched his nose. If he could just explain it properly- then what? They'd kick him out until they found Tim?

Heaven knows Bruce wouldn't actually keep him here. If he knew it was Jason, he had no doubt he'd be on the streets already.

"Hello?" Bruce answered his phone. "What? No! Yes, I said that- he said what? Alright, I'll be there in 10."

He stood up. "Sorry, Tim, I'll be right back. You can stay here without me?"

A gleam of anger sparked in him. "I've always been fine without you."

There was a tensing of the shoulders, but otherwise, no reply.

"Alfred, take care of him," was all he said before he left.

Jason sunk down into the couch. He just wanted to wake up and have this nightmare be over, over, over.

The doorbell rang, interrupting his sulking.

"Master Timothy?" Alfred said. "Would you mind getting that?"

Jason would've said no, had saying no to Alfred been possible. He grumbled slightly as he stood, noting how annoyingly short he was, then he made his way to the front door.

There was knocking this time, annoyingly insistent.

"Okay, yeesh, I'm opening the door," he moaned.

His voice froze in his throat when he saw himself there.

"Jason?" He- no, this was Tim- asked. "Oh, god, am I glad to see you. Um, could you step outside for a bit? You- you are Jason, aren't you, because if you're not-"

"Shut up, Replacement," he sighed as he shut the door behind him. "You got my rockin' good bod while I'm stuck with your scrawny runt self, so I'm not in exactly the best mood."

"Okay," Tim mumbled, ignoring the jab, "we've somehow switched bodies- magic? From the guy who was there?- oh, but then we need a magical cure-"

"No problem. Bruce has got connections, we just need to-"

"No!" Tim looked around before lowering his voice. "We can't tell Bruce. If he knows- on my first mission- it's just..."

Jason cocked his head. "You don't want him to know you screwed up."

Tim hung his head, and shook it. "I know you hate me, but please..."

"...I won't tell."

Tim looked up. "You won't?"

"No. Believe it or not, I do know you're a person and you have feelings." Jason looked to the side. "I also know what it's like to screw up. So, there. Not that this makes our animosity any different, though, so don't count on it."

There was the slightest smile on Tim's face and Jason couldn't wrap his head around that because it was Jason's face, and Jason hadn't smiled like that since he found his mother.

"But this means you're gonna have to find the cure, for both of us."

"I know," Tim said. "But I think I know someone who can help."

Jason's nose crinkled. "Oh. Him. Damnit, he's gonna smother me to death if he finds me."

Tim smiled. "Okay. I'll come into my- your- room when I find the cure."

"And if you don't?"

"...I will."

"Master Timothy? Is there a problem?"

Tim stepped down. "Um, you better go."

"Yeah. And you better get the cure, or else I'll beat you with a crowbar."

"Um... thank you. And you better not swear!"

"Don't worry!" Jason called over his shoulder. "I always follow the rules!"

"Who was that?" Alfred inquired.

Jason shrugged. "Oh, just a friend."

"Mmm. Your parents called. They said they'd be back at the end of the week."

"Parents?" Jason shook his head. "Oh, right. I'll... I'll call them."

"Good. Cookies are on the counter."

Jason grinned.

Perhaps being the Replacement wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Dick was having a rough day.

From getting about five minutes of sleep in the morning to getting yelled at by the Commissioner for being late, this wasn't his 'best-of-best' moment.

So, he may be forgiven for not realising there was a murderous vigilante sitting on his couch.

"God, I should really quit," Dick mumbled to himself. "Serving up twice as much justice in one day is gonna kill me."

The murderous vigilante gave out a little cough.

"Oh, hey Jason," he greeted tiredly.

...Wait. What?

"Jason?!"

He dropped the box of cereal that he'd been holding, contents spilling on the floor. An apologetic and flustered look crossed Jason's face.

"Oh! Oh, sorry, let me pick that up for you," Jason said, embarrassed.

Dick calmed down enough to raise an eyebrow. Jason, in all the years he'd known him- even before the bomb- had never done anything for Dick before (without being bribed, of course).

"Jason? You okay?"

Jason looked up with abnormally calm eyes. Usually there was some anger in there at least- a permanent remnant of the Pit- but today there was nothing at all.

Okay, something was definitely wrong.

"Well, that's what I came here to talk about," Jason explained slowly. "See, I'm not Jason- I'm Tim."

Dick stared. "...What?"

"Um, we might've, accidentally, magically, switched bodies. And I need your help to find the cure."

Dick buried his head in his hands.

Why, oh why had Bruce thought it a good idea to adopt more kids?

* * *

 **And another chapter up! By the way- to the pleasure of most, I'd like to think- sorry to those who thought this would be Tim/Jason, because it isn't. Not that I don't love me some romantic relationships, but my stories are all about familial ties and such. So sorry to get your hopes up! Okay, I know these chapters are kinda short, but at least they're fast right? I might or might not update tomorrow- depending on how much I get done. Thanks to all those who reviewed/liked/followed, please do so again! Thanks to the reviewer who pointed out that I wrote Jason instead of Tim, fixed it!**


	3. The Fall

There was a knock on Jason's door.

Jason, wearing one of Tim's stupid sweatshirts, looked up. He frowned.

"Come in," he said regally, trying to instill that sense of 'look at me I'm perfect!' that the Pretender had going on.

Bruce opened the door slowly, and Jason tried to bottle the emotions that came rising up his throat. Bruce payed more attention to Tim in one day than he had to Jason in a decade.

He couldn't just look at Bruce's face and pretend that it wasn't the face of his nightmares.

"Hey," Bruce said softly.

Damn you. I hate you. Go to hell. "Hey," Jason replied evenly.

Bruce frowned. "Look, Tim, I know you usually don't want me intruding, but something's been wrong with you lately. Is it because your parents are away? You know they love you."

They don't. "I know."

Bruce pressed his lips together. Jason could almost see the gears turning, thinking, 'oh god what did I do to my Robin this time?'

"Tim, please, tell me what's wrong."

"What? Nothing's wrong. Just going through teenagery angst, you know, hormones and stuff."

"Hormones and stuff." Jason winced- how did the royal prince talk normally? This was damn difficult.

"Ok, look, the truth is... I've started to think... that maybe you don't love me!" Jason wailed, throwing his arms up.

Oh, he was good.

Bruce's face morphed into an expression of panic. "Tim, of course I-"

"No, you don't! Can't you see me flaunting my perfection? But I still crave more, more attention! I NEED ATTENTION!"

"Tim!" Bruce yelled, but Jason was in the middle of a crying frenzy. Oh, yes, he wouldn't tell Timmy's little secret, but embarrassing him was a fair trade.

"Oh, Bruce, you love everyone else more than me! I see the looks you give Catwoman every night! Why don't you look at me that way?!"

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. Yes, Jason thought, take that, take that because I will make you suffer like you made me.

"Tim..." the man sighed. "Is this about Jason?"

Jason's fake sobs caught in his throat. "Wh... what?"

"I know it must've been hard for you," Bruce continued. "I know he was your hero."

Jason flinched. He hadn't known that.

"...and, with him coming back to life, I might've seemed more distant to you. I've been so focused on him... Jason..." Bruce clenched his fists. "But no, I've decided. Jason Todd is still dead. Red Hood... Red Hood was never him."

Jason stared at Bruce. And the words filled his brain, but he couldn't comprehend it, and god, he'd never felt such pain before.

Such pain.

And he started to cry.

And Jason would say that it was because he was in Tim's body, because Jason Todd didn't cry, but oh wait, apparently he wasn't Jason Todd anymore.

But it was a relief. It hurt, but it was a relief.

Bruce had just confirmed, right to his face, that he'd given up on Jason. So Jason didn't have to hold on to that stupid hope anymore, the one that kept driving stakes through his heart.

Bruce, bewildered at the sudden display of emotions, wrapped his arms around Jason. Jason buried his face in his shoulder.

"Tim..."

"Shut up." Jason squeezed him tighter. He knew now that, as Jason, he'd never feel this again. "Just shut up."

Bruce let out a soft chuckle. "Love you, Tim."

Jason's breath hitched. "I love you too. I do- I do, I do love you. I do."

And he could ignore the 'Tim' and pretend that it was Jason and Bruce, just like how it used to be, and that Bruce was speaking to him, to him, because god did it feel nice.

And a nasty thought popped into his head.

Why did he have to lose this again?

Why couldn't he just stay here, like this, and never return?

* * *

"Oh my god..."

Tim shifted uncomfortably. He'd given Dick a real nasty shock- not that he'd intended to do so, but really, he should've known.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."

"Dick?" Tim asked tentatively. "Are... are you okay?"

"What? No, I'm fine. My two younger brothers have just switched bodies, that's all, and oh my god did you leave Jason with Bruce?!"

"I'm sure he won't do anything-"

"Ooooh, at the end of this, he'll still find a way to blame me!" Dick smacked his head. "Why did I choose to run away to Gotham's sister city instead of, like, China?!"

"Dick," he tried again. "This really isn't helping."

"Yeah, no sh-" Dick seemed to remember that it wasn't Jason he was speaking to. "No duh. Why haven't you spoken to Bruce about it yet?"

Tim blushed. "I don't... I don't want to worry him. We can solve this ourselves."

Dick looked at him and Tim had the uncomfortable feeling of being transparent. Ironically, he thought to himself, feeling transparent was the opposite of feeling invisible, while both times a person sees right through you.

He feels transparent with Jason and Dick.

He feels invisible with Bruce.

"And Jason won't tell?" Dick inquired.

Tim shook his head. "He said he wouldn't... he seems to actually, for once, be cooperating with me."

Dick smiled. "Well, if we can't contact Bruce, we can still contact Babs."

"Oracle? I thought she was flying under the radar."

"Yeah, well, being her maybe-boyfriend has its perks," Dick grinned.

Tim rolled his eyes. Dick's reputation with the ladies, while infamous, did come with some perks.

"Hey, Timmy?"

"Yeah?" Tim looked up curiously.

Dick smiled strangely. "Will you hug me?"

Tim cocked his head at the strange request. "Uh... sure."

He walked up to his older brother and put his arms around him, and felt Dick hug back.

He could hear Dick whispering softly.

"Jason... I forgot you were so warm..."

Tim didn't mind. He liked making Dick happy, and even if that meant pretending to be Jason, he didn't mind.

Well, maybe he minded a little bit. That the rogue Robin, the murderer, was able to make Dick happier than he ever could.

Replacement. Pretender.

"Alright," Dick said finally. He let go and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Go make things right again."

* * *

The night wind was blowing.

Jason liked the cold, though, so he kept the window open. He was staring at the room he was in.

He pushed down the urge to enter his own room. No, he thought, that Jason Todd is dead. He... whoever he was... was what was left.

"Jason?" a soft voice whispered.

Jason turned his head to the window, where Tim (in an awkward pose, as the body was a bit bigger than he was used to) was perched on a ledge.

"Tim," he greeted curtly.

Tim clambered inside. "Well, good news. Barbara found out that the Wizard's powers can be counteracted by saying a phrase backwards."

Jason frowned. "Like Zatara's powers?"

"Yeah, except we have to say it. Together. Here, I have the phrase- you can read it, I memorised it. Ready? E-"

"Wait."

Tim froze, then stared at Jason in confusion. "What?"

"What if..." Jason's brain was slow. "...What if it doesn't work?"

"Well, let's just try it first-"

"What if things get worse?"

Tim sighed, exasperated. "I doubt it, but if it does, we can just consult Dick and Oracle again."

"...I don't think I want to."

"What's wrong with them? I promise, they won't take pictures-"

"No. I mean... I don't want to switch back."

Tim let out a nervous giggle. "Jason, stop messing around. If we don't switch by the end of the week..."

"I'm not messing around." Jason clenched his fist. "Bruce... he loves you. I just want him to love me."

"Jason, of course he loves you! What are you talking about?"

"He doesn't! And he never will." The second Robin trembled. "But at least this way, I can pretend."

"No. No, Jason, you can't! That's my body! That's my-"

"You took my life away from me! I'll just return the favour!"

Tim was clearly horrified.

"Jason," Tim said desperately, "we need to switch bodies before the end of the week. Or else we're stuck like this. The both of us. Forever!"

Jason looked Tim dead in the eyes. "That's fine by me." Because it was Jason's turn to be the Replacement.

"You can't! No, I won't let you!"

"You can't stop me, Tim."

"I can." Tim was shaking violently, because he couldn't comprehend- what kind of person would give up their own life?! "I'll tell Bruce!"

"He doesn't listen to me."

Tim felt tears of frustration prick at his eyes. "Jason, you're giving up everything you have. We're both in the wrong body! How long do you think it will last before someone realises that?"

"Long enough!" Jason punched the mattress they were sitting on. "He said it himself! He never cared about me! The only way to get him to look at me is if I'm you, so that's who I'll be!"

"But Jason, this isn't fair!"

"Oh. Fair? Is that what this is about? Okay, then, was it fair for me to grow up on the streets? Was it fair that I found my mother only to find that she betrayed me?! Is it fair that I died?! Is it fair that you replaced me-"

"Stop it!" Tim stared at him, anger simmering. "That's just an excuse! You're just selfish, and you need a reason to be! You don't even consider- I will be trapped in you body. You're giving your fate to me!"

"Tim, what's going on?" Bruce called from beyond the door.

Jason looked at Tim.

"Goodbye, _Jason,_ " he spat, and kicked Tim out of the open window.

* * *

 **Oh, yes, things are heating up! Thanks to all those that have supported me so far, I really appreciate it! If you enjoyed, make sure to like/follow/review! Thanks for everything guys, and see you soon!**


	4. The Day

Jason had never felt more alive.

He was soaring through the air, Batman by his side, and he couldn't help the laughter that escaped from his mouth.

Batman gave him a side glance as they landed on the roof.

"You're in an awfully good mood," he mused.

Jason just shrugged and smiled. "There's nothing better than being Robin!"

Batman's lips curved slightly, which in Bat terms meant he was overwhelmingly happy.

Jason was too. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed this.

Sure, it was a bit strange, fighting in another body. Sometimes he missed kicks and punches because Tim was so goddamn tiny. But, still, he managed to find a rhythm.

And he hadn't killed anyone all night. Jason mentally patted himself on the back for that one.

"There," Batman growled.

Jason followed his gaze. "Bank robbers. Who even gets away with that these days?"

"Nobody. Or else we aren't doing our job."

Batman fingered a smoke pellet. "Robin, get ready to dive."

With a flick of his wrist he sent the smoke pellet hurtling towards the crook. It landed on the floor and exploded with gray, smoke tendrils expanding and crawling over all the terrain it could find. Robin stepped backwards then took off in a running leap, hands clutching his cape as he spread it outwards. Batman landed before him, legs hitting the gravel, hands hitting the crook's face. Robin tumbled to a stop and swiped the other thug's feet.

In no time at all, they were tied up at the foot of the bank.

"Great," Jason declared, as the police sirens sounded in the distance. "Their response time's getting better."

"C'mon, it's getting late. You have school tomorrow."

Oh great, Jason thought. He hadn't thought about that. "...Right. We'd better disappear."

They took off, capes fluttering behind them. They just needed to find a roof to do their mandatory staring before they headed home.

Jason sucked in a breath. "The city never changes," he murmured.

"No, it doesn't."

Jason, with more than a little trepidation, sidled closer to Batman. He slid his hand in his father's and squeezed it tight.

Batman didn't react, but a minute later he felt him squeeze back.

And Jason laughed and wrapped his other arm around Bruce's elbow, until he was hugging Batman's arm with his whole body, and he buried his face in the leather because damn him if he lets go.

And damn anyone who tries to make him.

* * *

Dick brushed aside Tim's hair and sighed.

The kid had been completely exhausted, wandering back to Dick's apartment in the middle of the night. He had known it was still Tim, judging by his fervent mutterings about 'Jason's body stinks' and 'what was he thinking, we're going to die like this!'

Of course, Dick hadn't had time to ask before Tim had collapsed. Dick had initially thought it to be pure exhaustion, but a closer inspection revealed the bruises that Dick was sure hadn't been there before. He had tended to them, trying to keep the worry down in his stomach, as he mulled over what could possibly have happened.

It wasn't the type of damage you sustained by fists. It looked more like the bruises you'd get if you were slammed by a high-speed whiteboard.

Whatever it was, it was obvious something had gone very wrong. And Jason, for some reason, had not said the incantation. He ignored the blossoming fear that Jason had given Tim those bruises- surely he hadn't, right?

Didn't Jason want to return to his own life?

"...Dick?"

Dick looked down at Tim on his lap, who was blearily waking up. Like this, it was easy to imagine it was Jason whom he was cradling, brushing the lock of white hair.

"Hey, Timmers," he said softly. "You okay?"

"What? I'm fine," he protested, before softly hissing in pain. "Okay. Maybe not that fine."

Dick sighed. "What happened? I thought you'd switched back, and where did those bruises come from?"

Tim shuddered and closed his eyes. Dick frowned, wondering what bad memories had entered his mind.

"Jason... he- he refused."

"What? you mean... he refused to change back?"

"Yeah, I don't know-" Tim pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning against Dick's shoulder. "He said I stole his life, so he could steal mine."

Dick ran a hand through Tim's hair. If there was one thing he knew about Jason, it was that it was never as it sounded.

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," he soothed.

Tim let out a frustrated groan. It was funny hearing it in Jason's voice, low and gravelly. "I... I think I'm going to tell Bruce."

"What? Tim..."

"No, I am going to tell him! I can't let Jason get away with this!" A pause. "Bruce must know already, right? He knows I'm not acting like myself. Doesn't he?"

Dick looked over at Tim. "...I'm sure he does. But look, Tim, I don't think you should tell him."

"But-"

"I know what you're going to say. It's just... if Bruce finds out that Jason did this to you, he won't... I don't think he'll ever forgive him. And I can't let that happen. I can't I want to fix this family, I do..."

"Dick... But how do we get him to switch back then?"

"I'll talk to him." Dick scoffed at the look Tim gave him. "C'mon, I'm his favourite elder brother! He'll totally listen to me."

"Okay, but if this doesn't work..."

Dick's face shifted into a melancholy smile. "Then you can tell him."

"But, if he's following my schedule, he's in school right now. There's no time to talk to him until tonight."

"Yeah, I've thought of that too." Dick grinned. "I've also been thinking about that new water park that opened downtown."

"But- your job!"

Dick waved his hand. "I'll take a day off." Then, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, "everyone knows I'm the best cop on the force."

"But I don't have a swimsuit," he said half-heartedly.

"Stop making excuses, baby bird, and just admit you want to have fun for once."

Tim couldn't stop the grin stretching on his face.

At least, he thought, _one_ of his brothers didn't disappoint him.

* * *

Jason tugged at the stupid tie that was a part of Gotham Academy's dress code.

"Alfred," he moaned, "I feel sick."

"Why, Master Timothy, I thought you were excited! You've been talking about the geography test for weeks!"

Who the hell is excited for a geography test? "Oh, yes, well... I can't take it if I'm sick!"

"Do you have a fever?"

"...No."

"Do you have chicken pox?"

"..."

"Have you fainted in the past two hours?"

"...Oh, alright, Alfred. But I expect cookies when I get home."

"Have I ever disappointed you Sir?" Alfred said drily.

Jason huffed, but opened the door and stepped out into bright daylight. The old academy building stood like a vertical brick, windows casting rays of sun onto the playground. Jason dug his nails into his palms.

He remembered this place. God, did he remember this place.

But now it was different, wasn't it? Now he wasn't a street-rat orphan charity case- now, he was a pampered rich kid with genius-level intellect.

Somehow, it didn't make things any easier.

"Tim!" a girl's voice called.

A girl came running over to him. He gripped his backpack straps tighter and put on his most winning smile. "Hello," he greeted curtly.

The girl in front of him had golden-bright hair, and an equally bright smile. Not an enemy, he thought; perhaps a girlfriend though.

A weird feeling stirred in his stomach, but not jealousy, like he'd thought it was. It was... pride?

Oh, no way. He was not proud of the Replacement for having a girlfriend, because that's how brothers feel, and they were not brothers.

"Tim, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing..." Damn. He didn't know her name.

The blonde girl's eyes widened as they focused on something beyond his shoulder.

"Come on, John's heading this way." She took his hand and lead him into the school building.

"John?" Jason asked, trying to sound casual.

She gave him a look. "Yes, John, the guy who's been beating you up since you got here?"

"Oh. That John."

And he wondered if money didn't get you out of the victim-zone, then what on earth did?

"We should get to class," she said.

Jason rubbed his head. "Oh... right. Class. Where is that again?"

She stared at him. "What is with you, Tim? It's like you're a whole different person."

"Yeah, well... I just wanted to try it for a while."

A while, he thought bitterly.

More like forever.

* * *

Jason groaned and put his head on the desk.

Homework scattered around him, reminding him that the stupid Replacement had chosen to do extra credit- why the hell would anyone do that voluntarily?

He lazily filled out math sums on the sheet, pausing every once in a while to chew on his pencil. He sighed.

Man, he'd forgotten how boring school was. Why did anybody waste their time there?

"Having trouble?"

Jason turned and saw Nightwing climbing through his window.

"Dick," he stated, surprised. He held out his pencil in an act of defence. "You can't force me to-"

"I just want to talk," Dick soothed. "Jason. You can't keep pretending you can stay like this forever."

"Why not?" Jason defended.

Dick plopped himself down on the chair sitting cross-legged. "You have two days left until you're permanently stuck like this. Once that happens, there's no turning back."

"I don't want to turn back."

"Jason, this isn't you. No matter how much you convince yourself, this life will never truly be yours. You've got to accept-"

"No!" Jason kicked the floor angrily. "Why do I always have to accept my fate? I'm a hero! I take other people's lives, and my own, into my own hands!"

"You're acting like a child-"

"Because I still am one! Your life may have moved on since that night in the warehouse, but mine didn't. I didn't grow up... I was forced into being a grown-up. But I have a second chance to live a life I was supposed to have! You said you cared about me, Dick, so let me have this!"

Nightwing got off the bed and moved towards Jason. He flinched as Dick ran a glove through his hair.

"I do care about you," he said softly. "But life has always got to be earned, Jason. Whether you believe it or not, Tim earned his role as Robin. You can't steal everything he's built for himself."

"But what about me? The Joker stole everything from me! Everything I worked so hard to keep!"

Jason felt tears sliding down his cheek, and pushed it away hastily.

"That's exactly why you can't do that to Tim," Dick pleaded. "Do you want to become The Joker to him?"

"I'm not The Joker! I'm not!"

"Then prove it." Dick's face tightened. "I bought you some time before we have to tell Bruce. You can fix this yourself. But if you don't show up by tomorrow night, we will tell him. And everything you built this side of your life will be gone."

Jason hiccuped. "I didn't mean... I never wanted to hurt Tim. I never..."

Dick smiled and tilted Jason's face up. "You know, you're really adorable as Tim. But I still love you more as Jason Todd."

"Then you'd be the only one," he muttered.

"No. No I'm not."

And Jason was left gaping at the open window, and into the rain.

* * *

 **Hey guys, back with a new chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, and make sure to like/follow/review. It's been wonderful receiving so much support from everyone, from just one-timers to regulars! Thanks to all those who have done that, you make the writing process easier (not to mention inflate my ego- not sure if I should thank you for that).**

 **See you soon!**


	5. The Choice

Jason nursed his hand, staring at the wooden splinter lodged in his knuckle.

He watched the blood drip down the back of his hand, cherry red against his pale skin, the trail snaking down his wrist until it lost its balance and succumbed to gravity.

A puddle had formed below him, but he took no notice. Nor did he take notice of the thousand other wood splinters that spread around him, almost like Jason was the bomb that had reached 0, and the splinters were the chunks of Jason flying everywhere.

He growled in frustration. Punching a wooden chair hadn't helped his mood after all. Nothing would, really.

Not after the disaster that was patrolling that night.

It had all gone so well. He had been refraining, smiling, sometimes even laughing in the wind.

'Did you see that new move I did?'

'Brilliant, chum. Brilliant.'

He had been brilliant.

But things were not right, in the world, in his heart, and especially in his head. Because Bruce wasn't talking to him- no, his words were directed to his Replacement, his Pretender, his-

No. Calling names was child's play. Bullets, however... they weren't.

And every single look Bruce shot him, every single smile, every single 'chum', they were all bullets that even the best of armor couldn't stop.

He wanted this to be his. He wanted it- no, needed it so badly that his heart ached at the thought of owning his own 'I'm proud of you, Robin.'

But no.

It wasn't his. None of it was.

And it goddamn hurt.

'Robin, are you okay?'

Batman had noticed his churning thoughts. They were distracting him in the field, and on the rooftops, when they were alone.

And Jason had replied: 'I'm better than ever, Batman!'

Because Jason lies. A lot. And he lied to himself about this working, about him ever gaining happiness from pretending-

He was the Replacement. He was the Pretender. He was everything he had ever hated.

He was... the Joker, the thief, the one who steals lives because he enjoys it.

And he hadn't been able to take it anymore.

'Robin... Robin! Stop! What are you doing?'

'You will never touch another girl again! DO YOU HEAR ME?!'

Jason hadn't meant to break his back. Jason hadn't meant to shoot him with his own gun.

It all just kind of... happened. Oh, who was he kidding. These things only 'happen' to him.

And the look... oh god, the look that Bruce had given him, even with the cowl on, that stung, more than any smile or praise he had ever said.

So, it was 'go home and get some rest, Robin. I can handle it for tonight.'

Jason had screwed up. Jason had become Jason again, and that meant killing everything he touched.

He plucked the splinter out idly and watched a new spurt of blood bubble through the cut. He closed his eyes.

Just once, for God's sake, he didn't want to hurt anymore.

"Master Timothy?" Alfred.

Jason stared at the mess on the floor, and on himself. "Um... hey, Alfred."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Please don't come in."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he replied. Paused- no, hesitated. "Master Jason."

Jason's spine stiffened, as if an electric current had been sent up his back. Alfred's voice had wavered, but the knowledge was there, underneath the current of doubt.

Master Jason. It had been years since Alfred had called him that.

He stood up, brushing a few wood fragments off his pants, and opened the door slowly. If Alfred was surprised at the mess in the room, he didn't show it.

"Alfred," Jason breathed, as soon as he walked through the door. "How-? Dick told you, didn't he, he said I had until tonight-"

"Nobody told me, young sir. If I couldn't tell that one of my charges had been replaced by another, I'd be a very bad butler."

The second Robin crossed his arms, sitting on the bed. He pulled his knees up to his chin. "Bruce didn't notice. Does that mean he's a bad father?"

There was a slight crease in Alfred's brows. "Batman may be the World's Greatest Detective when it comes to crimes, but when it comes to his sons, he is rather clueless."

"I am not his son." But Jason's voice wavered, too.

Alfred sighed, and took his place next to Jason. He tensed slightly, arms almost brushing against each other. Jason longed to lean on his shoulder and just cry.

"You were always his son, no matter what you thought." Alfred smiled. "But, I think, you already knew that."

Jason looked down at his bloody hands. "Do you hate me? For... for everything. For this."

"Master Jason, I have been living in a household full of vigilantes for a decade. I have seen countless of mistakes being made, and contrary to what you think, it is not always you making them. Hating someone doesn't ever solve anything. Loving someone, however... that has the power to change."

And it wasn't outright, not a straight 'I love you', but Jason could tell it was there under all that wisdom and age and kindness.

I love you.

For the hundredth time in an eternal week, Jason cried.

* * *

Tim stared at the phone in his hands.

It was a cheap one, one of the disposables they kept handy for calling without being traced. The plastic was cracked down one side.

The guilt bubbled up briefly inside him, because he'd told Dick he wouldn't, but he knew the truth.

Deep down he knew Jason wouldn't have agreed. Knew it like he knew his own name.

He thought back to the water park they'd went to yesterday. Hanging out with Dick was his favourite thing ever, and it had been a lot of fun, but he hadn't been able to enjoy it.

Because while Tim had been hanging out with Dick, Dick had been hanging out with Jason.

It was the little things. The constant brushing of the white lock, for example, or the avoidance of that stupid clown mascot. That was Jason, he wanted to say, Jason was afraid of clowns, not me. Not Tim Drake, whom is the one walking with you right now.

And there had been bigger things as well. The buying of chilli dogs, which Tim hated but Jason loved. The sadness when Dick looked at him. And god, that awful end of the day-

'Love you, J- Tim.'

He knew Dick loved him. Dick had told him often, basically everyday. He never doubted it.

But did Dick love Jason more? Yes, apparently, without a shadow of a doubt.

So Tim dialled the number, even though he'd told Dick he wouldn't, because he knew the truth.

Bruce picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Bruce, this is-"

"Jason."

Tim blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected for Bruce to recognise his voice, but really, he should've known better. He took a deep breath, but before he could begin-

"I told you to never call me again."

"Wh... what?" Okay, now Tim was really confused. "I've called you before...?"

"I don't have time for this. What did you do with Robin? Did you poison him again?"

Tim winced at this remembrance. "Hold on, Bruce, I need to tell you something-"

"You know he nearly murdered someone last night." Tim's eyes widened in shock. "Are you happy now?"

"No!" What had Jason done? "Listen, Bruce, I need-"

"Whatever you did to him, I'll reverse it. You know that, don't you? You'll never win."

"What are you talking about?"

A breath from the other end of the line. "I'm not playing any games anymore, Jason- Red Hood. From now on there is no history between us. From now on, you're just another criminal to me."

Tim was far too stunned to speak. He couldn't think.

"This is the last conversation you'll have with me that's this pleasant, I can assure you." Bruce couldn't do that. Jason was his son, too. He couldn't do that! "Goodbye."

"No, wait-!"

A low, robotic beep sounded in the line. Tim frantically dialled his number again, but his call was rejected before he could even speak. Hapless, he dropped the phone onto the couch.

For a second rage coursed through him, boiling hot. Jason had no right to keep his body. If he had let go of it in the first place, then Tim would be at home right now, instead of Jason living it up in comfort while Tim was alone and hated by Bruce-

The realisation hit him like a train. Was this how Jason felt everyday? Tim didn't think, if he was stuck like this, that he'd be able to take it.

Tim doubted Jason was able to take it, either.

The rage subsided like a sad tide, until all that remained was this empty aching.

Tim just wanted his family to be happy. Was that so hard?

* * *

Dick opened the door with difficulty, the hinges old and rusting. A loud screech reverberated through the apartment, reaching the ears of the shadow sitting on the couch.

"Good news?" Tim asked. His voice wavered with fragile hope.

The shadow in the doorway sighed, and appeared in the light.

"Not sure, Timmy," Dick shrugged. He smiled. "I gave him till tonight. He still might show up."

Tim bit his lip. "So... it's a no, then?"

"Tim..."

"What happens if I'm stuck like this? What if I'm stuck like this, forever?!"

"You won't be-"

"No!" He curled his hands into fists. "No, I understand now. If I were Jason... I wouldn't want to switch back, either."

Dick took a seat beside Tim, eyes shining with concern. "Timmy, did something happen? What's gotten you so upset?"

"N-nothing. I'm just... I'm just tired, is all."

"You should get some rest, then." Dick put his arm around the current Robin. "Whether he comes or not... you'll always be you. In your body, or his."

Tim smiled a little. "I guess I couldn't be Robin anymore, though. The costume wouldn't fit."

"Why don't you come to Blud to be my sidekick? Nightwing and Flamebird, the new Dynamic Duo!"

"Dick, you don't need a sidekick."

"Could always use someone to wash my dishes." He laughed at Tim's pointed look. "I kid, I kid. That's what take-out is for, right?"

The boy groaned. "You're going to die of health problems, you know that?"

"Oh please. You know how many cigarettes Jason smokes in a day? If you get stuck in his body, you'll have to face some serious consequences."

"Not to mention his chillidog breath."

"Oh, don't even get me started. And when he farts, you better-"

"Ahem."

Tim and Dick immediately stopped talking. The soft light that sprinkled through the windows illuminated the figure in front of them, half covered in darkness.

"As much as I'd love to hear you guys insult me," Jason said quietly, "I'd like to get down to business."

* * *

 **Sorry sorry sorry for the long wait! I'v been lacking inspiration really, and with exams coming up I was swamped! Anyway, there should be one more chapter of this (depending how long it is, I might split it in two), so expect that to be up soon. Actually, don't, I'm terrible at keeping a schedule.**

 **Thank for reading! Make sure, if you liked it, to leave a like/follow/review! Thanks a load to those who have supported this story, and who've helped me procrastinate through my days. Your service is much appreciated.**


	6. The End

"Are you afraid?"

Tim blinked, looking up from where his fists were clenched on his thighs. "Wh...what?"

"Are you afraid?" Jason asked again, without a hint of malice.

Tim looked back down at his hands. His small, Tim-sized, Robin-glove-fitting hands. The spell had worked- they were back to who they were supposed to be.

Still, though, he wondered if a part of him would always reside with Jason now. And if somewhere deep inside of him, there was a part of Jason, too.

"I'm not afraid," he said, though his voice was tight. "I'm angry."

"Oh." Jason shifted on the couch, which they both had not moved from since they had switched back. "Because... because of me?"

"No. Not anymore."

And Tim saw how Jason sagged his shoulders, like he was afraid this time he really crossed the line, this time he really couldn't save himself. Tim had thought that too.

He guessed they were both wrong.

"So, guys, I'm heading out," Dick called from the front door. "You guys okay now without me?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "We're actually better without you, if your ego can believe it."

"Ha ha." A pause. "This... was quite the story, wasn't it?"

"...Not one you'll be telling Bruce anytime soon. Right?"

"No. A promise is a promise." Dick hesitated as he opened the door. He gave them both a smile. "You guys take care of yourselves, 'kay? I don't know when the next time'll be that we're all together again, so..."

He seemed reluctant to say the word, so Tim said it for him. "Goodbye," he called.

"...Goodbye." The door slammed shut, and the semi-darkness returned.

Tim straightened his back as he noticed that he was now alone with Jason. He clasped his hands, then unclasped them, then gripped the fabric of his pants.

"Then why are you angry?"

The younger boy started. "What? Oh, right... I guess, I guess I'm angry because there's nobody to be angry at. Does... does that make sense?"

"Yes," Jason breathed, as if he had just had an epiphany. "It does make sense."

Tim squirmed slightly at their closeness, arms almost touching. This did not escape Jason's gaze.

"...I'm sorry."

"F-for what?" Tim stuttered, eyes wide.

The dead Robin's eyes pierced him. "You know for what. For not giving you back your body. For hating you. For... for being your hero, but letting you down."

"My hero... Bruce told you, didn't he?"

"Yeah. While he was saying he'd given up on me."

Tim sighed, remembering the phone call that had turned so sour so soon. "Well, he may have given up on you... but Dick hasn't. And I won't. So you don't have to be sad anymore."

Jason shot him an incredulous look. "Who said I was sad? I didn't say I was sad, I mean, I don't need anyone's approval-!"

"You didn't need to say it," Tim countered. "You know... you're not alone in this world. There are people who can understand you. You just... need to let them."

Jason snorted. "If that's the case, you might want to take your own advice, Mr I'm-Too-Cool-To-Ask-For-Help."

Tim let out a soft chuckle. "I guess we're both idiots, aren't we?"

"Yep. A pair of butt-kicking, body-swapping idiots."

A comfortable silence fell between them.

"Jason..."

Jason raised an eyebrow at the hesitation in Tim's voice. "Yes?"

"Do you... do you wanna come with me to the Manor?" he blurted.

A blush rose in Jason's cheeks. "I shouldn't... Bruce..."

"Screw Bruce," Tim said bluntly. "I want you to come. So please..."

"...You don't have to do this 'cause you feel sorry for me or anything."

"Stop making excuses, Jason. I'm doing this because you deserve it."

And he knew this would get to Jason, because for most of Jason's life he'd been fighting for things he thought he'd deserved. Bruce's love, the Joker's death, the Robin suit... all things he'd held as his own. And, if Tim were honest, all things he'd never get.

But his home? The Manor? That, Tim could give him.

"Fine then," Jason said casually, masking the fear and hope in his voice. "Just for a minute or two. Because you want it so bad. Because obviously I don't want to be there, but there's food, and I'd always loved the paintings-"

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," Tim smirked. "And get your butt off this couch. There's a manor waiting for you."

* * *

The path up to the Manor was at once well-worn and new, as if you could walk barefooted on it and feel the footprints of the people who had passed by. This sense of history made Jason uneasy, as did the flowers, and the grass, and the damned giant building looming in front of him.

Everything was confusing. In his ears, in his eyes, in his chest. He didn't know what to feel, so he opted to suspend everything and feel nothing at all.

It wasn't working.

"They're home," Jason remarked throatily.

Tim gave him an unreadable glance. "Is that a problem?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Jason stared at the lights in the window. "Is it supposed to be?"

Tim didn't answer, but fell back, so now they were walking side by side. Jason shuddered slightly as he walked by a patch of grass that had been flattened.

That was probably where Tim had landed when Jason had... well... kicked him out of the window.

God, he didn't deserve forgiveness, did he? Why did they insist he was worth saving, when he just kept proving them wrong?

"Hey," Tim said, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

The boy gestured to the door. "You wanna knock?"

And he was plunged back into his thoughts again, drowning in a sea of voices. He couldn't breathe. It seemed stupid- it was just a knock, just a fist against wood. He was good at fists. It should be easy.

But he wasn't a fool. He knew, in a weird strange way, that this choice that he made right now would be an everlasting one. A mark.

Either he ran away, keeping everything the same and safe and sound... or for once he moved on, and let the changes, good or bad, come to him.

He knocked.

"Just a moment!" A voice called from beneath the polished door.

A second later a bolt was sliding back, and a bright pair of eyes peered out into the daylight. Jason's gut squeezed as a smile graced the butler's face.

"Master Tim, Master Jason," he greeted. "What an unexpected surprise."

"Hey Alfred," Tim replied happily. "Can we come in?"

Jason knew this question was only for him.

"Of course, of course! I'll have cookies in the oven for you two in just a minute."

Tim, sensing Jason's reluctance, tugged at his sleeve and dragged him through the doorframe. By now, Jason felt like he was actually drowning.

"Tim," Jason whispered, as Alfred bustled around in the kitchen, "this is a mistake."

"No it isn't. Trust me."

"I can't. I can't do this, I can't-"

Jason's voice stopped when he felt a hand slide into his, warm and small. He didn't look down, but relaxed slightly.

"Do you want to see your room?" Tim asked quietly.

"O...Okay. Just until the cookies arrive. Then I'm outta here."

Tim shot him a look that said 'yeah right', but before he could actually say it a voice cut through the air.

"Tim?" Bruce called from the staircase. "Is that you?"

Jason's heart stopped in his chest.

* * *

Tim bit his lip nervously as he heard the footsteps descend towards them. Jason, beside him, had gone completely still.

If he ever gets out of here, Tim reflected, he'd probably be traumatised for life.

But it wasn't fair. It shouldn't be this painful to go home.

"Bruce," Tim greeted, hoping his voice didn't sound like what he felt.

Bruce's large frame came into view, and as it did the look on his face morphed from casual disinterest to absolute shock.

"Ja... Jason," Bruce choked, like his name was some sort of spell.

Jason stiffened, and Tim could feel the sweat on his palms. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it was stupid to think that, for once, all their problems could be solved by just wishful thinking.

"Yes," Tim replied, deciding to play it sarcastic, "this is Jason. I'm glad you remember what he looks like."

"What are you doing?" Jason hissed.

Tim honestly didn't know either.

"What... Tim, what is he... doing here?"

"He's going to his room," Tim declared. Anger and pain grew within him. "And he's going to stay the night."

"What?! Tim, are you insane?" Jason looked like he was on the verge of fainting.

Bruce's face twitched, his expression stoic. "...What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm... I'm hanging out with my brother."

The word hung there, thick and demanding attention. Jason was staring at him, eyes wide, mouth agape in a stupor. And Bruce...

Well, Bruce was still standing several steps above them, but not looking at either of them particularly. In fact, it almost seemed like he couldn't see them at all.

Tim was satisfied with his work. He tightened his hold on Jason's hand and dragged him, past Bruce's unmoving figure, up the flight of fancy stairs and onto the second floor, where the corridor of rooms stared at them. He made his way carefully, deliberately, to the one room that was forbidden.

"This is your room, right?"

Jason blinked, slowly dragging himself out of his reverie. "Yeah... Yeah, it is."

He reached for the doorknob and hesitated.

"Jason?" Tim waited. "What's wrong?"

"Is it the same?"

"Well, yeah, of course it is. Alfred never changed it."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Why?"

"Because... now I have to acknowledge how much I've changed. And I... I don't want to. I don't want to see how much I've... how little there is left of me."

Tim frowned. "That's ridiculous. Jason, we all change. That doesn't make us any less of ourselves. Even if your change involved magic pools of acid and clowns, it doesn't make you any less of Jason Todd."

"You didn't know me before," he protested.

"I know. That's why, to me... this has always been the best version of you."

Jason's mouth quirked a little at the corners, and Tim allowed himself a small smile too. It was nice when you found the right thing to say, especially when you always said the wrong ones.

"Are you going to open that door?"

"Don't snark me," Jason huffed, seemingly settling back into his bad-boy self.

He reached for the doorknob with a solid determination, twisting it and pushing inwards. The door swung open smoothly, as if it was still lived in, still being used.

Jason took a step forward. And stopped.

"Jason...?" Tim's voice wavered with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Jason's eyes were wide as he took in the room.

"Holy bad taste, Batman," he finally cried. "This is the ugliest room I've ever seen!"

Tim blinked. "Uhh... what?"

"Why is everything green? What, was I into vomit back then? And what is this thing? Is this a cockroach? Why on earth would anyone have a cockroach plushy toy? This looks like it would give me nightmares, not take them away!"

"I'm... uh, I'm sure we can fix it-"

"Yes, yes, that is exactly what we should- is that the Rainbow Magic book collection? Why the heck did Bruce let me buy that?! Geez, Replacement, you were right- I'm much happier the way I am now."

"Ah... I'm glad you're okay now."

"Man, back then I was as big a dork as you are."

"Hey!"

"Oh c'mon kid, you know it's true." Jason opened a drawer and frowned at its contents. "Besides," he continued, tossing stuff out casually, "dorks are adorable."

"I am not a-" Tim broke off as he realised what Jason had just said.

"Yes?" Jason raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to make a comment.

Tim blushed. "That's- well-"

"Hey," Jason interrupted. "Look at this."

Tim walked over and peered curiously into the lowest part of his drawer, where there was a crumpled piece of paper.

"It was my New Year's resolution. The year that I... left."

"Oh." Tim shifted uncomfortably. "Well, what does it say?"

Jason moved over to the bed, and Tim followed suit.

"Let's see," Jason said grandly, "Number 1: Buy Paige the Pantomime Fairy. Oh my god, why did I put that on here? Are the rest just as lame? Spray paint the Batmobile... eat 30 cookies in 30 seconds... sneak up on Alfred... hah, good luck with that, past me. Did I actually do any of these things?"

Tim's gaze landed on the bottom of the page, and he suddenly burst out laughing.

"What?" Jason frowned. "What's so funny?"

"N... N-number 52," he choked.

"There are 52 of these things? Let's see... Number 52: Get a younger sibling?!" Jason's eyes widened. "What? I assure you Tim, I do not remember writing this."

Tim had fallen over, now spread on the bed. "Look... it continues!"

"Get a younger sibling and... read Rainbow Magic to them?!" Jason stared at it. "Okay, I'm pretty sure this wasn't me. There's no way I would've wrote this!"

"Y'know, it's not too late to finish the list," Tim teased. "Especially that one."

"No way. Nuh-uh."

"Oh come on, you're staying the night, aren't you?"

Jason huffed. "Only because you're forcing me to. And don't think I cared at all when you called me a brother. Because I didn't."

"Okay. And you totally did not write that you wanted to read Rainbow Magic to me, either."

"I didn't! It's a lie! The list is a lie!"

"Hmm... let's see which book I should choose, out of your 40 book collection... Ow!"

"You deserve that," he smirked. Jason looked at the bookshelf, a memory from a lifetime ago. He sighed. "Thank you..."

"For what?"

"For... y'know... bringing me here. For saying that in front of Bruce. I should've just given back your body in the first place, Tim. You shouldn't forgive me for it."

"Jason... you were strong enough to give back a life that was taken from you. I should be thanking you. Or maybe we should just accept that we'd do anything for, and to, each other."

"How do you know that? How can you trust me?"

"I know that... 'cause you're going to read me Ruby the Red Fairy, and it will be the best story of both of our lives." Tim pulled the slim novel from amidst the countless others, and handed it to him.

He took it grudgingly, but was smiling nonetheless.

"Fine. Gather round, children, by which I mean the one child in this room. And here we are: Chapter 1, The End of the Rainbow..."

* * *

 **Hey guys! Remember when I said 'soon'? Well, three weeks later is apparently soon for me. Sorry! I was writing The Five Stages Of You as well, so I hope that makes up for the lack of updates!**

 **This is the final chapter of this story, and I want to thank everyone who reviewed or liked or followed this. It's been an incredible journey, and I loved writing it. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Oh, and happy early Chinese New Year! I hope everyone has a lovely rest of 2017.**

 **Disclaimer (man, I haven't done one of these in ages): I don't own Rainbow Magic (duh).**


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